


The Pool Boy

by maps



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, bottom!Louis, future bottom!louis like in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maps/pseuds/maps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is the neighborhood pool boy who always seems to woo the suburban housewives. When he’s offered a new pool to clean in the wealthy part of Kiely, Texas, however, he ends up desperately trying instead to woo the British University transfer student rather than the middle aged home owner. Little does he know, Louis is trying just as hard to get into the High Schooler’s pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pool Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry some of the quotation marks are effed because i wrote this in a tumblr text post thing and it doesn't tell you which direction they're facing so yeah sorry about that.

One thing that Harry loved about his job was that it was the motivation he needed to stay physically fit. Every day in the gym he thought of the middle-aged women that so pined over him. He wasn’t that naive. He knew why they brought him lemonade and made him fun little snack, why they asked him to “pretty please glean the gutters, Harry?” as they not so subtly pressed their breasts together. Or why they asked him if he “could maybe mow the lawn? If it isn’t too much trouble, of course.” The happily married women wanted to fuck him and liked to pretend they actually would if he gave them the chance. They both knew it would never happen, but that didn’t mean they never left each other subtle innuendos and idle winks.

Every house was different, with different housewives and different forms of of professing their needful wanting. 3902, on Jefferson Way, would spend the afternoons sunbathing in her bikini in plain view, blonde hair shining, and offer him a beer that she said would be “the last one, so don’t go expecting them now,” as she winked. Or 3770, on the corner of South Street and Polly, the brunette always changed openly in front of her large, french doors connecting the master bedroom to the small balcony. And the beautiful redhead living at 3460, on Polly and Jefferson Way, she was the least subtle of all the women he worked for. One time she went as far as mentioning her heightened hormones and how much she would like it if Harry “took her from behind.” These advances never put him off. He would only laugh, enjoying the attention, and kindly remind each and every one of them of their husbands. At this, a shadow of guilt would surface in their eyes and they’d laugh along with him, as if saying, “Oh yeah, that guy…” However, the hints of sexual frustration did confuse Harry. Most of their children went to school with him, so they had to have heard about him…yet they still flirted. At the very least, it boosted his self-esteem. 

Today, however, Harry was cleaning a new pool. It resided in the back yard of the biggest house in the neighborhood filled with the biggest houses, or so he’d been told. This neighborhood was on the other side of town, opposite his “official territory,” as he called it. If he remembered correctly, 3902 recommended him to a new family that had just moved to town. She’d had met them at the Kiely Country Club last week, she told him over yet another refreshing beer. He hoped he could gain a few more pools from this new neighborhood. He knew that if they were Country Club members, their wallet’s were never in any trouble and could waste money on a teenage pool boy like him.

His shitty, old truck pulled up to the gated community. Just as he was rummaging in the trash and schoolwork piled on the passenger seat, looking for a small scrap of paper, he heard the small beep that signaled it was time to type in the gate code. “Ah-hah!,” he said to himself as he pulled the ripped paper out from under his math book. After typing in the six number code, he drove through. Finding the house was not a problem. As 3902 had said, it really was the largest house on the block. In Harry’s honest opinion, it was completely outrageous to have a house so large. To him, it would never feel like home, only a very private and elite hotel. Temporary, unlike his cramped, little house that was snug like that favorite cozy old sweater everyone has. He parked in the huge roundabout driveway of 6036, his trucks engine sounding pained before it was put out of it’s misery when Harry turned the key.

Harry made his way up to the front door after he grabbed his gear from the bed of his truck. He marveled at the five stories that towered above him, each with glorious windows who’s depths were hidden in shadows. Harry thought it looked like a medieval castle, with a modern twist. The large, classic wooden door even had a lion head knocker drilled into the center. Against such ridiculousness as the giant knocker, he shifted his pool supplies to ring the doorbell. A distant chiming fell on his ears and soon after was the sound of muffled footsteps and a loud thud that he imagined was someone jumping the last few stairs.

Harry wasn’t surprised to see it opened by a young man, but not, however, at how incredibly pretty he was. He was slightly out of breath, maybe two or three years older than Harry, with hair that was ruffled and windswept in a way that was almost too perfect. Harry knew that the hands that were in the process of buttoning up this stranger’s shirt had probably slaved over that hair for hours. Harry’s eyes lingered openly and longingly on the the other boy’s chest that showed through the deep V of the five buttons he had left unbuttoned. He woke up from his reverie at the clearing of a throat.

“May I help you?” he asked. Harry’s eyes flicked up to meet the startlingly blue ones staring back at him. He was also surprised at the British accent that flowed from the boy’s lips, and pleasantly so.

Harry starred down at his own body, dumbfounded. All of his pool cleaning gear was clearly on display. “I’m the pool boy…?,” Harry said, but it sounded like a question. He just found it funny and stupid that the boy had asked him such an obvious question.

”Ohhh, right, right. Hold o-“

“Louis, hon, is that the pool boy?” Harry heard a woman’s voice call from the depths of the house.

Louis turned to look for the source of the voice. Harry used this as a chance to let is eyes explore the contents of the mansion. In his first glance inside, he saw that there were still a few boxes here and there, but for the most part their shiny, new belongings were all unpacked.

“Yeah,” Louis replied as, Harry’s assuming, Louis’ mother appeared down the hall behind him.

“Oh good! Honey, Lou, could you walk him around back? And do help him, he looks as if he’ll just topple over.” And she’s gone again, disappeared somewhere else in the house most likely making her own way to the pool.

Louis gestured to Harry for him to hand him something to carry. He handed Louis the long handle of the hand-held filter with a mumbled, “Thanks.”

“For what? I’m not much help, now am I?” Louis laughed as he held up the feather light object.

“Eh, yeah. Now my right hand is free to hold the vacuum,” Harry countered. He actually was a lot more comfortable to be honest. “Where you from, anyway?”

”Doncaster, England,” the boy replied.

Harry gave him a baffled look. “Why the hell’d you come here, to Kiely?” He didn’t understand. Yeah, it was a pretty big city, just about the size of Dallas, but still. It was Texas for Christ’s sake.

“Dad got a job here. I transferred to Northern Texas State University.” Louis just shrugged off the words as they walked around the corner of the massive house. He acted as if moving halfway across the world was no big deal at all.

”Northern State?!” Harry exclaimed, using the name most locals called the university. At Louis’ startled look, Harry explained, “Acceptance there is really competitive.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” Louis said, shrugging again. Always shrugging! Harry wondered if he cared about anything. “Well, here we are.”

They had reached the back yard, and, as Harry saw, it was almost entirely an in-ground pool aside from a small pool house, relative to the mansion and a giant oak tree that grew beside it. Harry inwardly groaned at the sight. It had to be the biggest of all the pools he cleaned. It fit the house, he supposed. I better get paid more for this one, he thought. He looked up at the back of the Castle. God knows they can afford it.

6036, Louis’ dark haired mother, was there waiting for them. She was strikingly beautiful, clearly the mother of such a gorgeous son, with minimal make up and dark Mediterranean hair. Her body was slim, sleek in jeans and a long sleeved blouse that seemed out of place in the hot sun.

“Thanks, hon,” she said gently to Louis as he slipped by her, making his way back into the house through the open French doors.

“So!” she said, clapping her hands. “I’m Mrs. Tomlinson, but you can just call me Jay from now on.” She smiled at him warmly. He introduced himself, in turn.

“Now, I understand that you’re the pool boy for many other families? So I’ll assume you know what you’re doing.” She laughed to herself. “And how is Velma? She told me that you see her on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays?”

Harry was lost for a split second. Velma. Velma? Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he had 3770 and 3902. Mentally snapping his fingers, he remembered 3902’s actual name. Velma Lotterdale. He had just come from her house.

“Yeah, she’s great. Also, I have a feeling she might throw you a welcoming party up at the Club,” he said. Adopting an innocent voice as he kicked at the ground, he finished, “Not that I eavesdropped on Velma and the other ladies discussing it over their afternoon cocktails earlier or anything…” He looked up from the ground to wink slyly at her, already starting his wooing game even if his thoughts were more focused on her son.

Jay caught on to his aloofness. “No, of course you didn’t, dear.” She smiled at him, but Harry knew she had gotten his very obvious hint. “Well I’ll just leave you to it then!”

He grabbed his pool filter from where Louis had set it down on a reclining pool-side chair, and got to work. All the while, his mind wondered off into the depths of that house wondering which room that hauntingly beautiful boy had disappeared into…

 

Louis heard the familiar stuttering sound of the pool boy’s truck pull up the driveway. The unpleasant sound woke him from the nap he always took after his daily classes. He stretched as he sat up.

“Well, hello Jay, I’m Harry Styles.” The boy’s introduction on the back patio somehow still played through his mind.

Harry Styles…, he thought quietly. Louis remembered the way his voice didn’t have as much of a Texas accent compared to the other’s he spoke to at Uni. He particularly remembered the deep and oddly rustic feel it had as it rumbled out of the boy’s chest. He quite liked that voice, he quite liked it a lot.

It had been a few weeks since they had been living there. He thought he was finally getting used to it. His room was unpacked, with all of his posters pinned up on his walls (which included a rainbow Pride flag), a small loveseat under the window across from his Queen sized bed, and all of this clothes were hung up in his large, walk-in closet. His sisters were still crazy, but the house was big enough to escape them. His dad still a not-so-functioning alcoholic, and his mom still bad at hiding the bruises. Home sweet home, right?

The hunger scratching in his belly and the urge to see that American boy drew him down the three stories to the kitchen. After he made himself an avocado, turkey, and pepper sandwich, he sat at the bar as both of his needs fulfilled themselves. He took a bite of the sandwich and turned to chew it while his eyes devoured something quite different, but just as mouthwateringly delicious.

The high school boy was using the hand-held filter to sift through the water, clearing it of debris. Louis was transfixed by the way the boys’ biceps and triceps constricted and contracted to pull the filter back and forth through the water. He clearly saw each defined muscle on Harry’s back ripple under the white t-shirt already drenched in sweat. The thin fabric clung to his body allowing his tanned skin to show through it’s transparency. Harry turned, just then, and Louis made a small sound in his throat at the sight. His beautifully toned chest and artfully crafted abs were highlighted in the best of ways by the clear, white shirt. He looked up from the godlike torso only to see that a pair of green eyes were directed straight into his own. He hadn’t realized that he had stopped eating until that moment, and took a hurried bite. Louis chewed slowly, deliberately not looking out into his sunlit backyard. He had to prove a point, hadn’t he? He didn’t need to gape at a stupid high school boy. Or maybe he did. After swallowing, he chanced another glance only to see that the working boy was still staring, only now he had a knowing smirk painted on his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he set down the long pole of the filter to take off his shirt in one slow, fluid motion. The smirk never left his face, even as he turned his back to continue his work.

Louis was stuck in an internal battle. Should he watch, should he not watch? Should he longingly admire the body of a god, or should he finish his meal staring only at the cold metal appliances of the kitchen in front of him? In all actuality, he would much rather leave his half finished sandwich, and run off to his room to watch the pool boy from the shaded privacy of his fourth-story bedroom windows. However, standing at that moment would be disastrous if Harry happened to look through the panes of glass to see how he had made Louis’ body react. He now regretted his decision to change into sweatpants before his nap. He longed for his tight, restricting trousers as he willed himself back to a regular state. He thought of completely unsexual things like cold refrigerators and fluffy kittens. When he was ready, he stood, grabbing his plate, and walked all the way back to his room. He made sure not to look out through the back doors. He knew he could look all he wanted once he was upstairs. Before he had even closed his bedroom door, the front of his sweats had grown once more…

 

Harry continued to chuckle to himself even after ten minutes passed from when he had caught the college boy ogling his sweaty body. When he had seen that almost awestruck look on Louis’ face, he had thought, Finally! He had seen him making little glances here and there over the past few weeks, but never that openly or with an expression like that on his face. It pleased him to know that he could effect the other boy in such a way. He smiled, and willed the tingling in his lower abdomen out of his mind.

He had mainly taken off his shirt because it was time to get into the water to vacuum the bottom, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with the older boy. Sue him if he wanted to make that handsome young man go a little crazy, which in hindsight wasn’t too different from him attempting to woo the housewives that employed him. Only now, he actually wanted it to end hot, sweaty sex.

Since his shirt was conveniently already lying in a small heap at his feet, he only had to slip out of his shoes before walking down the pool steps in his shorts that doubled as swim trunks, with the pool vacuum in his hands.

It was relatively hard work, but the cool water surrounding him kept his body temperature down. He sighed in relief when he pulled the long pole out of the water, arms mildly aching. To relax them, he swam a few laps back and forth. He had never taken lessons, but he knew he was a good swimmer. He had done what he intended: his arms were loose and relaxed. He sighed happily leaning backward to float on his back. He soaked up the rays of sunshine that were raining down on his chest and face.

That smile left his face when he felt as if someone was watching him. As he thought about it, he figured it was probably just Louis and his smile returned ten fold. He opened his eyes, but he saw no one when he stood to peer through the windows to the kitchen, dining room, or living room. He guessed he just wanted those blue eyes to be on him so bad that he thought they actually were. Shrugging it off, he lied back in the water to continue his floating. That was when he saw a flutter of motion in a window next to the right balcony (there were two, of course) on the fourth story up. Upon closer inspection nothing was amiss, but Harry could swear he saw a pair of blue eyes watching from a familiar, angular face before it hurriedly left the window. He noticed a large rainbow flag hanging vertically against the wall behind the empty space where the older boy’s head had just been. Any lingering doubts about Louis’ sexuality vanished at the colorful sight.

Harry decided to humor his Peeping Tom. Slowly, he got out of the pool, never looking up at the window directly, only just enough to see if the face returned. It did, just like he knew it would. He was tediously packing up his gear. He took an outrageous amount of time shortening the filter’s silver pole, making sure his hands would wrap entirely around it’s circumference as they smoothed down it’s length. From his peripheral vision he could see the vague shape of a head bobbing slightly, up and down. Naughty, naughty, Harry thought. He realized he was just as naughty a second later when he dramatically stretched and used a small hand towel to “dry” his shorts in an extremely suggestive way. Still laughing, he dried his hair with the same towel and left with it strung over his shoulder, but not before he noticed Louis’ blissful face lean back from the window. Harry’s own smile grew. He had the college boy wrapped around his little finger.

 

A week later, after an uneventful Friday afternoon had passed by with Louis hiding from Harry cowardly in his bedroom, Louis was already out by the pool sunbathing when he heard Harry’s truck pull up. Since last Wednesday had gone so horrible (yet so good), he wanted to get the upper hand today. After spending the hour and a half that Harry had been in Louis’s back yard on Friday, locked away from the reality of being caught staring twice, Louis was ready to start playing Harry’s game. He was ready to fight, to act aloof. He lasted all of two minutes before he tensed in surprise as he heard a beautiful voice start to sing. It was deep like velvet mahogany. Louis felt goose bumps arise on his skin despite the hot sun.

“I think you hate the smell of smoke,  
you always try to get me to stop.  
You drink as much as me,  
and I get drunk a lot.  
So I’ll take you to the beach,  
and walk along the sa-“

Harry stopped short of the next word as he rounded the corner of the house. Louis gladly accepted the quiet that ensued. He feared that if the song had continued, he would lose all cognitive ability and sit drooling as he listened.

“By all means, please continue,” Louis lied smoothly, gesturing a forward motion with his cold Corona. His eyes crinkled in a smile behind his expensive sunglasses.

Harry’s jolted expression relaxed into an unembarrassed smile. “Oh, yeah, that’s right-you’re British. You actually know who Ed Sheeran is.” He set down his gear. “And you can legally drink. There,” he said nodding towards the beer.

Louis watched the way Harry’s hands traveled smoothly over the length of the long pole of the filter, that his sunglasses now turned golden, just as he had the week before. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look away.

”Yes, I know of Ed Sheeran. He’s absolutely incredible.” He took a swig of his beer. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” He lifted the bottle in his hand to show what he meant. “You know, I could fetch you a nice little lemonade, un-alcoholic of course, if you want.”

Harry just laughed at the chiding words. “Nah, maybe later.”

They fell into a tense silence that Louis pretended was completely comfortable. He leaned his head back and even closed his eyes, although it killed him not to stare at the other boy not ten feet from him. Ten long minutes ticked by.

“Before you came here, had you ever been to one of his shows?” Harry asked suddenly as if in the middle of a conversation.

“He..?” Louis was taken aback; he hadn’t expected a question like that. “Oh. Yeah, I’ve been to loads of Ed’s shows. He’s brilliant live.” He regretfully realized that he sounded quite snobby.

“Oh, that’s awesome, man,” Harry said. Looking confused, he continued, “Why the frown? Would you rather I take my shirt off again?”

Louis looked up from a stray leaf floating in the water. Fuck. His face was an open book.

“No reason,” he replied to the first question. To the second, he stole Harry’s line, “Nah, maybe later.” He smiled cheekily while Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

Louis replied with a slight nod and another swig of beer.

Harry just laughed. “Anyway, what was his set list?” He sounded genuinely interested. Again, Harry surprised him, caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected Harry to change the subject so quickly. What did he want?!

“At the most recent show?” The pool boy nodded. “Well, he started out with some older stuff, like ‘Where We Stand’ and ‘She’, but he mostly played songs off the new album.”

”Gah, I’m so jealous! I haven’t heard much of his new stuff though.” Harry continued to filter the dead bugs and leaves out of the pool water.

“Have you been to any other shows?” Louis asked. He took another drink. The cool liquid soothed the thirst in his throat.

“Eh, not many, no.” His muscles tightened as he shook the debris from the netting of the filter. Louis licked his lips. “Most big bands go to Dallas, not Kiely for some reason. And since I didn’t have my truck until earlier this year…” He left the rest to obvious speculation.

Louis nodded in understanding. “Aw, well if I had moved here sooner, I could have lent you my car.” He was feeling bold. “Or I’d have just driven you myself.”

Harry laughed a bark of a laugh as he turned to look back at Louis. “I bet you would’ve.”

“A bit cocky, now, are you?” Louis raised his eyebrows. Harry turned back around, and started walking the filter down the side of the pool.

He huffed as he shook the filter clean again. ”Nope. I’m not cocky.” He breathed out deeply as he reached the filter out as far as he could out into the middle of the water. Louis smiled to himself as he saw that T-shirt was starting to darken down Harry’s spine. “Or blind.” 

“I should hope not, seeing as you are our pool boy and need an eyesight to see all the shit in the water.” 

Harry turned to look back at him from down the length of the large pool. His expression said something like, Are you fucking kidding me? mixed with, Don’t even try to dispute it. Louis was mildly confused.

“So how was your sandwich the other day?” Harry asked loudly. His eyes bored straight into Louis’ panic stricken soul.

“Quite delicious, thank you for asking.” Louis took the question in stride, but his heartbeat quickened. 

“Yeah, it appeared so,” Harry said swiftly.

There was something about his gaze that fascinated Louis. Something in those emerald eyes that shone in the light reflected off of the water. Some intent that Louis couldn’t place. Those eyes were so intense as they flicked down the length of Louis’ sweat glistened body, that when they returned to his face, Louis realized what he was seeing in them was lust. He mentally slapped himself on the forehead for not being able to see it before. The passionate look on Harry’s face didn’t falter. Louis took a deep but shaky breath, wondering how long he could keep his composure.

”Hmm, and how was your bedroom afterward?” A smile crept onto his lips, yet his eyes retained their intensity.

That question made Louis’ eyes widen as his head shifted backward in confusion. He knew that Harry had caught him looking from the kitchen and also from his bedroom once, but something in his eyes told Louis that he had been caught doing something much worse than just allowing his eyes to wander…but no, Harry hadn’t seen him doing that. Had he?

Louis stared at the pool boy. “It was great. Had me a nice, quiet nap. Very relaxing,” Louis tried not to sound too guilty, but he feared he had hesitated too much.

Right away, Harry said, “Oh, I have no doubt you were relaxed…after a bit of coaxing, of course.” His smile grew larger and more wicked by the second.

Louis didn’t know if he should admit to it or not. But just as he was about to reply with a cheeky comment to show Harry he didn’t have a hold on him, Harry suddenly changed his dark facial expression into one of innocent bliss. His dimples created a contrast of shadow on his sunlit cheeks, and Louis’ thin composure broke. How could a gaze as intense as that just change in the time it took for him to blink? He wasn’t supposed to let this high school boy manipulate his feelings! He was supposed to make the younger boy swoon, not the other way around. He knew he had more experience in dealing with men than this young boy. He was a Junior in University, after all.

“How about that lemonade?” Harry asked sweetly, all trace of his longing gone from his face. Louis thought he could see a twinge of a little something in his light eyes, but he couldn’t be so sure. Brow still furrowed, he stood mumbling, “Yeah, sure,” and walked into the house.

 

Harry openly laughed at Louis expense as he heard the clinking of glasses through the open French doors. He had known what Louis was trying to do by surprising him out here. Harry was personally insulted at the other boy’s half-witted and half-assed attempt to unsettle him. He knew that Louis wanted to catch him off his guard, but when people try to shake him up, he shakes them up ten times worse. Only with Louis, it’s almost too easy.

His smiling cheeks started to hurt at the fresh memory of Louis flustered and unprepared for Harry’s blunt interrogation of the previous Wednesday’s occurrences. Harry had had plenty of practice perfecting the lusty and passionate gaze he had just opened up upon the college boy. He knew just how much to lid his eyes, just how much to lift his lips at the corners with a sly/sexy taste, and he knew just how to hold his body in a way that drove whoever he wanted absolutely crazy. Call him cheesy or creepy or both, but he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t spent time looking into his eyes in front of the mirror perfecting such an expression.

To him, it was just an act. Sure, he played up being very experienced, even for his young age of nineteen, and openly flirted with women that were barely younger than his own mother, but he was all talk. He never actually wanted to sleep with them. After all, he referred to the women by their address number. Upon reflection, he wondered if the fact they were just numbers in his head made it logically more likely that he did want to hook up.

He didn’t think of Louis as a number, he realized as the glistened off the water and painted his body with bright waves, which disconcerted him more than it probably should. His front fully turned from the house, he made sure his furrowed brow couldn’t possibly be seen. Louis wasn’t just an address, and, surprisingly, neither was his mother. It seemed strange, compared to his normal games, but in reality it all mad perfect sense. He was young gay man, what would he want with middle aged women? Wasn’t Louis, a boy, more his type? More rewarding to woo?

Ever since that one morning in seventh grade that he had woken up from a very disconcerting dream, one that had left him confused and sticky, involving himself and a fellow boy on his baseball team, he knew he had had more than platonic feelings towards a few of the boys on the school team. Especially when they were all stripping themselves of clothes on all sides of him as they changed for practice or P.E. class. These stressful moments of wondering if anyone had noticed the tent spring up in his boxers were the worst part of his middle school career. They didn’t always go unnoticed, either, and one had sent him shakily into his coach’s office for a talk. Coach Stevens had been kind and understanding, and allowed him to come into the locker rooms early, before the rest of his classmates, to change in silent comfort. So when he came out as gay late in his sophomore year of high school, it wasn’t much of a surprise to his peers. He had gladly taken on the entertaining role of the “straight” gay guy, happy to finally be honest with his family and himself. 

By the time Louis returned with tall glass of lemonade and another cold beer for himself, Harry had finished filtering the water closest to the house, and had taken off his shirt before beginning to work his way around the deep end. Louis handed Harry the drink, the ice clinking in a happy way that would forever remind Harry of summer, the uncomfortable air that had previously clouded Louis was gone from his body and facial expression. His eyes didn’t even linger on Harry’s now bare chest before he turned away. Slightly impressed, Harry thanked him for the refreshment.

“Sorry, I couldn’t seem to place the vodka to spice up that little drink up for you. You’ll have to do with a virgin,” Louis said with what sounded like a sincere apology, but Harry didn’t miss the small wink of one blue eye. Harry’s eyes shot through the open doors and into the kitchen where he saw the many shiny bottles of alcohol that decorated the tops of the cupboards. His green orbs returned to the sunny backyard to narrow in on the older boy as he took his seat on his cushioned reclining chair.

Louis shrugged at his suspicious stare, “Sorry, mate.”

A knowing smile spread on his face. Louis was trying, and somehow succeeding, to flirt back with him. He shook his head, causing his dark curls to shift playfully around his face, clicking his tongue. “Louis, Louis, Louis. You’re gonna have to do more than that, mate.”

Louis looked taken aback-again. Harry mentally tallied their points: Louis: 1, Harry: 5. He felt giddy, although he didn’t dare show it.

Recovering into a mask of raised eyebrows behind his glamorous sunglasses Louis asked, “Do more than that to achieve…what exactly?”

Turning to walk to the other side of the pool, Harry thought, Now that’s more like it. He kept his eyes on his work as he replied offhandedly, “Oh, you know. This and that…”

He let his voice trail off as he stared at the water sloshing against the edge of the pool. This part was always the worst, shaded slightly by the large oak tree beside the pool house, debris of leaves and bugs were more plentiful. It meant more work. Letting his eyes drown in the depths of the chlorinated water, he continued, “A favor… A pair of strategically placed lips.”

What he heard next was s sharp intake of breath. What surprised Harry, though, was that it was less like a gasp and more of a small, “Oh!” and quite frankly it was equally as adorable as arousing as it sent a lurch in his lower abdomen. Slyly lifting his eyes from the nearly cleaned water, Harry saw that Louis had stopped short of taking a drag off of his beer. One delicate eyebrow was raised, his head cocked to the right, Louis looked so incredibly mischievous at that moment. Harry inquired as to what had changed from the time he walked into the house, completely flustered to the point of speechlessness, to this bold and daring man sitting across the water from him. He wondered if he had had more beer before he had arrived and it was starting to take effect. Or perhaps… A mental image of Louis knocking back a few shots of whiskey appeared in Harry’s mind’s eye. He had taken quite a long time retrieving just one beer and Harry’s lemonade, that now lay untouched on an empty table. Adopting a mirrored look of mischievousness, Harry smiled.

“Strategically…placed…lips,” Louis repeats slowly, swirling his Corona in small circles. “Hmmf. Sounds boring and a bit too formal, don’t you think?” When Harry just frowns indifferently and shrugs a bare shoulder, Louis continues, “Also, I’m insulted! I slaved over that lemonade that you’ve yet to take one drink of and now it won’t be all that it can be with half the ice melted.”

Harry chuckled to himself. “I’m sure it will be fine,” Harry said as if talking to a small child. Louis merely replied with the same frown and shrug as Harry.

Deciding to humor the sunbathing boy, Harry walked around the deep end of the pool so that when he skirted the table and snatched up the sweating glass perched there, he was directly facing Louis. Flashing another mischievous smile, he took a slow drink through the straw. In all honesty, it was very refreshing and he was glad it contained no alcohol because he got drunk off Louis’ reaction.

 

Louis sat mesmerized at the slow, almost laborious, way the younger boy wrapped his full lips around the straw. His cheeks hollowed out somewhat as he sucked. Louis could already feel himself slowly stiffening in his shorts, his breathing growing heavier. Then Harry closed his eyes, and moaned. He really had just moaned. In front of Louis. While sucking. On a straw. Hard. Speaking of things that were hard… Louis looked down at his lap before hurriedly returning his gaze to the source of his arousal. Harry’s eyes were opened and pinned on his own.

”Mmmmm, now that is what I call good lemonade,” he said in a husky voice. “By far, the best I think I’ve ever had. I told you the lack of ice would make no difference.”

Louis said nothing for fear that his voice might betray his shaky feelings. He hoped that refraining from answering would seem like he was merely holding his ground on his ice theory.

“Well,” Harry said through a wide smile, “I can see that you rather enjoyed that lemonade as well.” Louis followed Harry’s eyes to the front of his shorts. He realized far, far too late that, that in his haste to not miss a single twitch of those pink lips, he had forgotten to cross his legs, bring his knees closer to his chest, or any other placement of his limbs to hide his obvious erection. He swallowed. There was no point hiding it now, he supposed.

“Yes, I think I’d quite like a taste, if you please.” His voice was stronger than he thought it would be. Barely a voice belonging to a young man sporting such a heightened state of arousal.

Without hesitating, Harry walked swiftly to where Louis was reclined. He leaned over the top of his shining naked torso with his left hand resting close to Louis’ right ear on the back of his chair. He held the cold glass up to Louis’ mouth and directed the straw between his lips with his index finger. Condensation had gathered on it and a few droplets slid down the length of the cup to shiver slightly before falling onto his chest. Louis felt them make their slow journey down to his bellybutton as he took a deep sip of the lemonade. He saw Harry bend his left elbow to shorten the distance between their faces, their eyes still locked.

Louis’ heart was pounding in his ears. All he wanted at that moment was to kiss that curly haired boy into oblivion. He wanted to grab his slender hips and bring them down angrily against his own. He wanted to move against him to cause heated friction in their shorts. He wanted their sweat to mix as their hands grabbed at each other’s slick chests. He wanted to shove his tongue into Harry’s mouth to taste every inch of it. He wanted to feel, not only hear, the vibrations of deep moans emanating from deep within Harry’s throat. He wanted Harry’s mouth to trail it’s way across his bare skin in varying levels of sucking and nibbling. Louis wanted so much, but he was frozen despite the Texan heat.

He breathed out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding as he closed his eyes taking his second long sip of the lemonade. He opened his eyes as Harry lowered the cup a few inches. Breathing faster, Louis could take no more and sat up to cover the distance between their-

“He-hem.”

The sound of a man clearing his throat sounded strange in Louis’ desire-muffled senses. He jerked his to the left to see the source of the interrupting noise. An overweight UPS man stood in the threshold of the open gate, awkwardly hold a dull brown package that matched the brown of his uniform. Seeing that he seemingly had Louis’ attention (When, in actuality, Louis couldn’t tear his thoughts away from the boy, two inches away from his face, that that refused to move merely because of the unexpected third party member.), he sheepishly said, “I have this package for a Mrs. Jay Tomlinson. I rang the doorbell a few times, with no answer. Well, and I heard voices back here so I thought I’d just drop back to deliver it…” The man was clearly very uncomfortable. He was trying to avert his eyes from the two young men, yet at the same time trying to remain polite eye contact with Louis.

Dreadfully knowing the answer, Louis asked, “Do I need to sign for…?” Gahh. He was so distracted by smell of Harry’s lemon scented breath as it gently ruffled the tiny hairs on Louis exposed jaw line, he couldn’t really care enough to finish his sentence.

The man nodded. “Yeah, I got my, uh, clipboard right here.”

The unexpected sound of Harry’s deep voice sounded, vibrating the air between their faces. Louis felt the air thicken with it, similar to Harry’s moans he wished he could feel reverberate within him not moments ago. He realized, lightheaded, that he was holding his breath again.

“W-what?” the stranger stammered. Louis could see how his body was angled towards the opening in the fence, the expression on his face clearly displaying his urge to run out the way he had come and fast.

“I said,” Harry’s voice was firm and eyes still boring into Louis’, “bring it here. He can sign from the comfort of his own chair, can’t he?” All the while his face stayed within inches of Louis’ sun glazed skin. Louis felt his breath hitch in his throat when he felt Harry’s head lower down on his neck, his breath tickling the tiny hairs just below his right earlobe.

The man stood where he was, stalled in his tracks, as if unsure of what to do. Eventually he walked forward with a frown, his nose stuck in the air like he’d caught a whiff of something rotting. He stood just close enough to hand Louis the clipboard which he signed in haste, his signature even more of a scribbled mess than his normal chicken scratch. 

”Th-ANK-” he had started to say, but was stopped short by a long lick up the side of his throat. Harry’s hot breath moved up to his ear and Louis felt teeth bite down to gently tug at the soft skin of his earlobe. Louis cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he spit out, attempting to smile.

The man had already turned, and without saying goodbye, was around the corner of the house and gone. Louis let out a sigh of gracious relief. He was more than ready to put to life his staggered fantasies involving Harry’s tongue and salty skin.

Somewhere along the line, Harry had set down the lemonade on the table to the left of Louis’ chair and his free right hand now rested on the chair’s left armrest. He held himself directly above Louis’ impatient body with the strength of his arms. His muscles didn’t even quiver, and Louis ached at the sight. Their breath mingled as Harry tilted his head leaning forward, their lips attracted to each other like magnets, but every time Louis tried to close the gap between, Harry backed away. After the third time, Louis groaned like a small child who can’t have their way. He probably would’ve stamped his foot too, if he were able. Harry just laughed, evil green eyes and dark dimples, like he could do this all day.

He brought his lips a hairsbreadth from Louis’.“Does this feel ‘boring’ to you, Louis Tomlinson?”

The sound of his own name in that deep, seductive voice sent a shiver of need down his spine. Breathing in deeply, Harry’s sent overwhelmed him.

”Yes,” he replied flatly. A clear lie, if not by the sweat on his upper lip than by the growing tightness to his swim trunks. Louis leaned forward involontarily, desire leading his actions. Harry backed away.

“Are my lips being ‘too formal’ for you, Louis?” 

Louis tried to say, “Yes, actually, they are,” but all that came up and out of his throat was a strained whine. Harry leaned farther around Louis’ face to whisper into his left ear while his curls tickled Louis’ nose in a soft way that he thought could’ve been sweetly intimate if wanting to get fucked against a wall wasn’t so distracting.

“Never, ever, underestimate the power of a pair strategically placed lips, Louis,” Harry said. The quiet words floated to his ear on his hot breath. Harry moved his head downward slowly, leaving a trail of goose bumps on Louis’ skin. He stopped, his lips hovering at the base of Louis’ neck. Louis felt those two pink pillows land softly on the tender skin just above his collarbone. Partly separated, they sucked on his skin. It was as if he had known exactly where Louis’ pressure point was as he leaned down into the spot firmly. Louis’ sigh was closer to a moan when he felt Harry’s hot tongue, and he basked in the feel of breaking blood vessels. He knew that Harry could taste his sweat. Bits of himself were littered in the pool boy’s mouth. Louis willed them to cling to his taste buds for the rest of the weeks until summer, so all Harry would taste was him.

Harry broke contact with Louis’ skin with a hot slurping sound. Pleased, Louis thought they were going to have a proper kiss, but Harry stood, turned, and gathered his gear. He was gone almost faster than the UPS man, and similarly without a single glance in Louis’ sexually fuming direction.


End file.
